


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by clotpolesonly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Fluff, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/pseuds/clotpolesonly
Summary: “If I asked you to slap me, would you do it?”Derek dropped his book. “Stiles!”But Stiles just blinked up at him innocently from his side of the bed where he was sprawled out, laptop perched precariously on his chest. “What?”“No!” Derek said emphatically.Stiles stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “Not even if I asked you to?”“Areyou asking me to?”Stiles shrugged, laptop wobbling.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 17
Kudos: 153





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> i had other things i was supposed to write today, buuut apparently it's just a fluffy face slapping kinda day, lmao. i've been seriously craving kink practice session fics lately and there are just so few of them, so i decided to be the change i wanna see in the world XD

“If I asked you to slap me, would you do it?”

Derek dropped his book. “Stiles!”

But Stiles just blinked up at him innocently from his side of the bed where he was sprawled out, laptop perched precariously on his chest. “What?”

“No!” Derek said emphatically.

Stiles stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “Not even if I asked you to?”

 _“Are_ you asking me to?”

Stiles shrugged, laptop wobbling.

Derek frowned down at him, book momentarily forgotten. “Like…in a sex context?” he asked haltingly.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Sexy slaps.”

Derek opened his mouth and then closed it again, at a bit of a loss. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually slapped anyone,” he admitted. “In _any_ context.”

“I haven’t either. But I have _been_ slapped,” Stiles said. “Not in a sexy way, though. She was very angry. But, in her defense, I was really insensitive and I totally deserved it.”

“And being slapped in an angry way made you want to be slapped in a sexy way?”

“Not at the time!” Stiles cried, finally shoving his laptop off onto the bed next to him so he could hoist himself up against the headboard. “But, like, you know… I was _intrigued_ by it. In retrospect. I’m intrigued, okay? So maybe I wanna get slapped around a little during sex—is that so bad?”

“No, it’s not _bad,_ I just—”

Derek cut off with a huff, cheeks burning. Next to him, Stiles sighed. He put a hand on Derek’s knee and gave it a squeeze.

“Obviously, if it’s not something that you’re comfortable with, you don’t have to do it,” he said. “I’m not ever gonna push you into a kink that makes you uncomfortable. And besides, it’s not like I’m _dis_ satisfied with our current sex life. Our sex life is fantastic, if I do say so myself!”

Derek snorted.

“The point is,” Stiles said through a smile, “I don’t _need_ this. So don’t feel like you’re disappointing me if you really wanna keep impact play out of the bedroom for us. That’s okay.”

The reassurance wasn’t wholly necessary—it had been a while since Derek’s old insecurities had really caused problems for them like that—but it was nice anyway. Derek chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, considering.

“You really want that?” he asked.

“It may make regular appearances in my masturbatory fantasies,” Stiles admitted. “Do you wanna give it a try?”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up. “Give it a try?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, already shifting around to face him properly. “Just try it once! If you hate it—or if _I_ hate it, hey, I don’t know!—then we have learned something about ourselves, and we can shelve the whole thing and go back to our regularly scheduled sexing. No harm, no foul, huh?”

He looked so excited. This struck Derek as a bit of a weird thing to get excited over, but Stiles had always been very keen on new experiences. Even if it hadn’t had a sexual purpose, it wasn’t hard to imagine Stiles eagerly goading someone into slapping him, just so he could know what it felt like. He’d demanded that Isaac give him an indian rug burn once, because he’d never had one and was curious. Then he’d spent three hours bitching and moaning about how much his arm hurt.

Derek couldn’t hold out long against that look. He pushed himself up onto his knees, grumbling the whole way, and tried to mentally prepare himself.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, how do you want me to do this?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I don’t know that it takes a whole lot of finesse, babe. Just avoid the eye and ear areas, don’t knock my whole head off my neck, and I’ll probably be fine.”

That was _so_ not helpful. Derek spent a minute trying to line it up, trying different placements of his hand on Stiles’ cheek, until Stiles got impatient. Then he had to shuffle backwards on the bed a bit to have enough room, knocking his abandoned book onto the floor in the process.

His first attempt was…admittedly kind of pitiful. It was more of a tap than anything.

“I’m warming up,” he argued, in the face of Stiles’ judgmental eyebrow. “And it’s better for it to be too light than too hard, right?”

“Okay, yes, probably,” Stiles said. “But come on, gimme a good one!”

Derek took a deep breath, aimed, and let fly. This time, the impact was solid. It wasn’t enough to knock Stiles’ head to the side or anything, but it made a sound and left Derek’s fingers stinging just a bit. For a second, they stared at each other, both wide-eyed. Then Stiles busted out laughing.

“Oh my _god,”_ he cried. “Dude, your face! You look so horrified!”

Groaning, Derek shoved Stiles so that he fell back onto the bed, still laughing. “Oh, give me a break. Of course I do! I just slapped my boyfriend.”

“At his behest,” Stiles reminded him. “I literally asked you to!”

Still chuckling, he regained his upright position and reached for Derek’s hand. He ran his fingers over Derek’s palm, light and ticklish, until Derek shook him off with a petulant noise. Then he pressed a kiss to it instead, which drained the tension from Derek’s shoulders. There was a patch of pinkness on Stiles’ cheek, only slightly warm to the touch when Derek reached up to run his thumb over it.

“You’re okay, though?”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine,” Stiles told him. “I promise.” He pulled Derek in by the front of his t-shirt to kiss him gently. “And thank you. For giving me what I asked for.”

“Was it, you know… _good?”_ Derek asked, making a face at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, did you _like_ that? Did it feel good?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said immediately. “Yeah, I definitely liked that.”

Curious in spite of himself, Derek asked, “How’s it feel?”

Stiles invited himself into Derek’s lap, settling down astride his thighs and draping his arms over Derek’s shoulders. “It’s kind of a jolt, I guess,” he mused. “Electric, you know what I mean? Like a shock, but a good kind.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist to pull him close. “Sounds thrilling.”

Stiles hummed. “Very.” He kissed Derek again, unhurried. “How was it for you? Was it super traumatizing and you never wanna do it ever again? It looked like it might have been a little bit super traumatizing and you might never wanna do it ever again.”

“My reaction wasn’t _that_ bad!”

Stiles just laughed again, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder. Derek pinched him in the side, which earned him an indignant squawk and a pinch back. Stiles emerged breathless and bright-eyed, but with a more serious face on.

“Okay, but really, though,” he said. “In an actual kink negotiation kinda way: how did you feel about that? Was it good, was it bad, was it just meh?”

Derek took a minute to actually think about it. They’d had these sorts of conversations before, and as flippant as Stiles could be about a lot of things, this was something he took very seriously. Stiles waited as patiently as he was able, only his thumb drumming restlessly against the back of Derek’s neck.

“It was…not as bad as I was expecting it to be,” Derek finally said. “It was definitely a shock, like you said. And I’m not used to hitting things outside of, you know, actual _fighting.”_

“That’s fair. Not a great association to have,” Stiles said. “Is it something that you’d be willing to try again? Or is it a no from you, Simon Cowell-style?”

He had his poker face on. It wasn’t a _good_ poker face, considering Stiles sucked really bad at poker, but he was making an effort not to let his own preferences affect Derek’s decision. Which was sweet, but, in this case, ultimately unnecessary.

“It’s not a no,” Derek said. Stiles immediately whooped with triumph—so much for the poker face—hard enough to almost knock himself over. “It might take me some practice,” Derek warned, pulling him back into place, “to get over the protective instincts, but as long as it’s something you genuinely enjoy and get off on, I think I can do it for you.”

Stiles took Derek’s face in his hands and started planting kisses all over it with loud smacking noises. “Thank you, baby, and I love you so much!”

Laughing, Derek fended his overly enthusiastic boyfriend off as best as he could without either of them falling off of the bed. They still ended up in a heap, Derek half-smothered under Stiles’ sudden outpouring of affection, but that was okay. There were far worse places to be.

**Author's Note:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr!](https://clotpolesonly.tumblr.com/post/645393986890203136/hit-me-with-your-best-shot)


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